We Are The Hollow Men
by Freya Sacksen
Summary: We are the stuffed men...they want to know what the people on the ground saw, what they did, if they helped. So they interview the survivors, the hollow men. Leaning together headpieces filled with straw...
1. We are the stuffed men

**We Are The Hollow Men**

_Those who have crossed_

_With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom_

_Remember us – it at all – not as lost_

_Violent souls, but only_

_As the hollow men_

_The stuffed men._

-**Stanza 3, lines 13-18**

_The light flickers a bit as she sits there, uncomfortable under the cruel lights. The man standing before her doesn't much care. He leans forward on the table. Behind him is a mirror; she knows people are watching her. She looks back at the man._

"_So," is all he says, but the word hangs in the air, a thousand different meanings lacing it. She swallows and rubs the scar at her shoulder, a nervous habit._

"_You were in New York when the Clover attacked?" it's barely a question – he already knows the answer, after all._

_The woman – girl, more like, barely twenty – shifts her weight. Why is she here? They already know about the Clover, more than she does. What do they want from her?_

"_Yeah," she mutters._

"_Can you describe it to us?"_

"_You idiots were there, right?!" she snarls, "Why the hell do I have to talk?!"_

"_Because you might have seen things we didn't,"_

_She lets out a small moan and leans back in her chair._

"_It was…_

- - -

…it was as though hell had struck New York. Fire and brimstone and all that, y'know? Even the air was orange with fire and ash. Helluva sunset the Pacific'll be having, I remember thinking, the geologist in me working on autopilot. S'funny…every time I start freaking out for some reason, part of me just shuts down and the rest works on automatic. Like when my kid brother died. I was seventeen and I…

You don't wanna hear about this, do you?

_Not really, no._

Sorry. Just…don' really wanna remember, y'know? Lots of people I know dead who shoulda been alive.

Aaanyway. Me and my boy, we were heading home from work – bartenders at a pub. 's how we met.

There was this…it was like a scream, but not a scream, y'know? The way the earth screams when it has an earthquake. It doesn' have a mouth, so it can't give voice…but it tries to.

This was a different kind of not-scream, though. This was a man-made not-scream.

Anyway, next thing we know, the Statue o' Liberty's heads comes fallin' down the street next to us like a boulder. The street shook – Jesus, we looked like zombies, all ashy and gray from the soot and smoke.

I remember seeing – well, no, I don't, I guess I remember _not_ seeing it. I mean, it was like my eyes saw it, but my brain didn't process it. The thought was just too…too horrible.

A little way away from me was this chick, really pretty but just as gray as us, and I heard her say softly to her friends 'it's eating people'.

And then my brain finally processed what it had seen. The idea was just so insane so…so…

_Unreal?_

Yeah, that's the word! Unreal. My boy and I…we just couldn't get it. It just didn't hit us what it meant.

So we ran. Ran away from it, ran as far from it as possible.

My mobile started to ring. It was my older brother – he was on the other side of New York, but he'd seen the Liberty lady lose her head and wanted to know 'f I was okay.

_Were you?_

Physically? Sure. The monster – Clover – hadn't got anywhere near me. I was fine.

Until…

_Until?_

Until it's bugs started comin' after us and…and…

_And?_

One of 'em…

- - -

"…_One of 'em bit my boyfriend," she breaks down into tears, "And it was…it was before they realized what getting bit did and so…I mean, I didn't see a silhouette, he just started bleeding and then he, he…" she gives a huge sob, "He yelled for me to get away, and shoved me so hard I half-flew 'cross the street but I could still see…"_

_She's just losing all composure._

_The official watches. Professionalism battles compassion and compassion wins. He walks around the table to put an arm around her shoulders._

"_I watched my boyfriend e…e…_explode_ in front of me! S-s-so I, I…I was the one, when I saw the first medic…I was the one who, who, who had to tell 'em…tell 'em what bite poison did. And when they washed the poison and blood off me…" she gives up the ghost of control and bursts into heartbroken sobs._

_For all intents and purposes, the interview is over. They'll get nothing more from the poor girl. Even if they do get her to calm down, the official isn't sure he wants to risk seeing her cry again._

_After all, he has a daughter almost her age. And he can't bear the thought of asking her to relive the Clover again. Not if it means she'll cry again. He looks at the scar on her shoulder._

"_Would you like us to do something about that?" he offers softly, pointing to the scar. She shakes her head._

"_It's like a tat…helps me remember,"_

_Eventually she leaves. The official sighs._

"_Send in the next one,"_


	2. Falls the shadow

**We Are The Hollow Men**

_Between the idea_

_And the reality_

_Between the motion_

_And the act_

_Falls the Shadow_

**-Stanza 13, lines 72-76**

"_You worked as a medic in the Cloverfield incident, correct?"_

_The man nods. His jaw clenches slightly – like the girl, he doesn't seem comfortable remembering it._

"_And you were in charge of dealing with bites?"_

_Medics, as a general rule, are fairly unflappable when it comes to diseases. Nonetheless, he doesn't look as if it was an experience he's likely to forget. He nods again._

"_Tell me about the bites. Tell me about the medical centre you were part of. How hard was it to deal with?"_

_The man thinks for a bit, and then starts to reply slowly._

"_I've been…_

- - -

…I've been a military medic for quite a while, so I know how hard it is to work when war is striking on every front. When everywhere around you, all you see is death, and the cost of it.

But Cloverfield…the Cloverfield incident was new. Unbelievably new. I just…

I was the one the girl told about the bites.

_(the official hides an ironic smile)_

I've seen people bleed from the ears and nose. I've dealt with that. People dealing from every bodily orifice is just…it was…it was like their blood was being forced out in any way it could and…

_(the medic looks faintly sick here)_

Sometimes there's nothing you can do. God, the number of times I just wanted to do something to stop…

_Euthanize?_

I'd never even really _considered_ euthanasia before. Or, at least, not in that kind of sense. Even with the worst wounds I've seen, it's never occurred to me that…

They were going to die anyway. Expand and explode. It was just…

_Just?_

The way they would _scream_. And it wouldn't just be blood coming out of their eyes – when they realized what was happening, they'd scream and cry. I know that if they'd had time, they'd probably beg for something, _anything_ to stop…to stop the way…

I have nightmares. Nightmares were I find myself expanding. And I feel the pain…but in a not-pain sort of way. A sympathetic pain almost, and it's _that_ which wakes me. Just as I get too big…

_How many bites did you get?_

Too many. We ended up setting up four or five bite tents.

_You wore hazmat suits. Why?_

We didn't know exactly what the residue would do if it got into your blood system somehow. We decided it would be better not to take the risk and to cover up everything.

_But the girl who told you about the bites?_

She was covered in blood and poison. We washed it all off, pumped her stomach, got any trace of it we could out of her. Nothing bad happened, but we kept her under close surveillance, in case…in case she started to explode.

_Did she?_

_(he knows the answer, but he wants to see the reaction)_

No. She was lucky. But she was completely hysterical for the rest of the incident. I don't think I ever actually saw her _not_ crying.

_Was there any action? Did anything manage to get in?_

If it did, I never saw it. But…I couldn't relax. I couldn't feel safe. Not when the smell of dust and destruction was still in my nose. Not when I could remember seeing the Clover, the nightmare thing the…the…

It's burned in my memory. The Statue of Liberty – the Brooklyn Bridge – everything just falling and falling…

All I've ever wanted is to help people. But that day…

It was as though the world fell apart around my ears.

- - -

_That's all the official really needed to know – he was only there to find out how dangerous the camps had been. Knowing that it had been at least relatively safe meant that, if another Cloverfield happened, they could rely upon the military._

_The official turned to the mirror and nodded._

_The interview is over._

_The medic is escorted out, but pauses in the doorway. He turns, as if to say something to the official…but changes his mind and leaves._

_The official sighs. These interviews are not going the way he expected. He hadn't been in New York; he knew little to nothing of what it had truly been like. Hearing their stories is…_

_Harrowing, to put it lightly._

"_Send the next one in," he says. The door opens._


End file.
